Underneath the Stars
by N.M. Ravynford
Summary: Aviator Alfred Jones is set with the task of protecting the innocent from Pirate raids and enemies alike. Arthur Kirkland is Captain of the most ruthless Pirates, causing the problems the Aviator strives to prevent. It's only natural for the two to hate each other. [Adapted from a Role-play] [USUK]
1. Won't Let You Go

The Captain stood at the head of his ship, one arm resting against the foremast as he surveyed the wicked waves twisting and clashing together as the huge vessel cut through them with ease. He had always loved the sea; the sea was unpredictable, it's movement had no pattern or rules. A beautiful sight, one taken for granted and often ignored but Captain Arthur Kirkland loved it for the specific reason that in it's beauty there was danger, much like his beloved ship which was currently riding the wind and the waves as one of the crew kept them on course. The rest worked hard on deck, at the orders of their merciless Captain whose reputation was known across the seas among the sailors and lands folk alike. This life wasn't ideal, nor was it legal. But it was the only life most of them had ever known, and still they could never understand the appeal of being bound to land. The sea was their home.

Outcast or abandoned, left to die or on their way to the gallows, each of these men had been saved by a man in a long coat with a temper no one had been able to surpass yet. Captain Kirkland had was once abandoned, once kicked to the ground and stepped on by those who were more powerful than him. But those days were far in the past and now that he was a Pirate he held a completely new outlook on the importance of ranks and titles. To but it simply, they didn't mean shite.

"Work harder!" He snapped, turning on his heels to gaze across the busy deck as one hand rose to push aside the hair that had fallen over one of his eyes. "If this incompetence continues I'll be forced to bring out methods of persuasion." A smile rose to his lips, "And I'm sure none of you want persuading…" There was a chorus of voices, agreeing to orders as though they were slaves.

The power… Arthur absorbed every drop like an alcoholic craves a drink. It was sinful and vicious.

But they were a family, of different backgrounds and different races and age. Captain Kirkland had accepted them and given them a home when they had nothing but the skin on their bones and a rag to cover them. Most respected him simply for saving their sorry souls.

He crossed the ship, from bow to stern his coat fluttered behind him, the eyes of the crew watching as he ascended the wooden stairs to the quarter deck. He's a bit shorter than some of his crew but they still cower whenever his voice boom higher than the crowd. It's not about the size, no, strength comes in different form - for this Captain, it's his skill with the sword and skill in sailing through monstrous ocean storms.

"Dismissed." He muttered. The man at the wheel stepped back and Arthur took the wheel, gloved hands pulling it left. "We have unwanted guests at the docks ahead, we'll await their departure then pick one of the smaller ships off. Then… We blow them to hell."

This was the routine, those leaving land never expected an attack so soon. They were like predators, picking off the new-born while it and it's mother were weak.

"Men to stations."

The cannons were unbound and wheeled to their positions, two men on each. One to load and one to fire. Teamwork was what kept things moving, it gave them the advantage of speed, and also surprise. For when the trade ship rounded the corner it would come face to face with the one thing they feared most.

"What's our aim, Cap'n? Are we pillaging or just sending them to the depths?" A good question, sometimes attacks had purpose and other times they were simply carried out for the man's amusement. He smiled, turning to the crewman beside him, the one who took charge of steering when Arthur was busy elsewhere.

"I thought we'd mix it up and do both. We'll take what we can then send the rest to the bottom of the sea. There's no one worth sparing on that vessel anyway." The young man nodded and stayed put, just as ordered.

"They've left port! They'll be on us soon, Captain!" He peered up at the lad in the crows nest, to see the man hanging over the edge, pointing in the direction of the small ship. Excellent. They could be on their way after this, sticking around after an attack was never a wise decision and even a pirate knew when to retreat.

"Hold till the last moment!" He shouted, voice carrying across the main deck as they waited. Time ticked… The ship grew closer and the moment the bow came into view there was no turning back. Arthur frowned, impatiently waiting for enough of the vessel to come into view before-

"FIRE!"

Those were his orders, and they were obeyed in an instant. The deafening sound of cannons would be heard on land, they'd send help so they needed to be fast. Arthur left the wheel, the position quickly being filled by the man standing by as their Captain ran across to the other side.

"Kill them all! Take what you can and send them to the pit! Listen to no plea, allow no laughs and let no man look up with hope!" He was corrupt, and the crew knew it. "Let them know this ocean is mine."

A bold statement but the English Pirate might just eat his words, those on land had already caught wind of the attack on the merchants. The alarm had been sounded and they were ready to dispatch a team to attempt a rescue mission. While they awaited confirmation, a certain man was awaiting orders.

* * *

Alfred Frizgerald Jones.

Captain of the thirty-fifth unit of the Aquila Division, he'd graduated from the military with _'awesome and sexy'_ flying colours as he put it. And everyone had watched him prance about with all of his prideful glory, wearing his new badge and bomber jacket.

Yes, today was his very first day of the job as Captain to his very own group- much to their dismay.

"You're late again.. Alfred." He winced at the voice, well… so much for the cool intro he'd been looking forward to. Matthieu just ruined his moment.

"Come on, can't a Captain savour his sweet, _SWEET_ moment? It's my first day on the job, Matt! You could have congratulated me or something."

"Congratulations, there. Now can we start working, eh? Kiku and Francis are waiting for you…"

As their names were said, they approached them, wearing their very own bomber jackets with the number 35 right on the back; its their unit number so they could be recognized. Matthieu, Kiku and Francis were Alfred's close friends, they studied Aviation together, passed the Aviation exam and now they were working in one group. Talk about luck! There's no need to have first introductions or make adjustments to fit in. Although, there's a slight problem when it comes to Francis…

"I still don't approve of the promotion, Alfred needs more training when it comes to leadership."

"Hey, that hurts ya know."

"I'm just telling the truth, mon ami. I cannot follow a leader who can't even make a decision on his own."

Its always like this. Fighting and bickering, and Matthieu is always the one who stands between them- Poor guy. "Enough! No more fighting, both of you…" A sigh slipped out from Matthieu's lips. "Okay.. how about we start working, eh? I'm sure we will be—-"

'Attention. Thirty-fifth unit of the Aquila Division. This is an emergency call, board your aircraft for—-'

"LET'S GO!"

They waste no time. Alfred, Kiku and Francis sprinted towards their craft, hopped into the cockpit, and slid their goggles in places. "Matthieu! Send the information after the take off!"

"Got it!"

They were naturals in the sky, as if it were as easy as walking. And their ascent took no time at all, their crafts climbing high past the clouds and out of view. They had to be ready for anything, so far they had no information on what they were required to do for this rescue mission.

"Captain Jones in, what's the status?" He asked after picking up the radio and placing it close to his lips.

"Lieutenant Kiku in, no problems here."

"No problems here as well, oh by the way mon ami. Do you remember Rachel? Oui, she's that female trooper who confessed to you the other day. But, since you rejected her, her heart was broken." Alfred rolled his eyes while holding the aircraft steering wheel in place. "So I gave her some loving—"

"Can we talk about this crap later? I don't care how many women you woo, Francis, and I don't mind hearing about all your adventures but you should watch your humour! We're in a mission so let's focus on the task." There was silence. "Do you copy?"

"Oui."

"Good.. Matthieu, are you in?"

"Here!"

"What's the mission?"

"A merchant ship in town zone 2937 is under attack by some Pirates, attack the assailant and commence rescue to remaining survivors. Sea support will arrive within 3 minutes. Alfred, hurry."

"Roger."

This is their job. The Aquila Division is specifically organized to capture the most ruthless Pirates in the sea, outlaws and rebels. Alfred had done his share of putting down those evil scoundrels and because of his constant achievements he was able to reach his dream, being one of the top Captains this year. His mother is probably proud of him and hopefully his father— "Alfred, be careful! Another pirate ship—"

 _ **BOOM!**_

Cannons set off, aimed at the three aircraft as they approached their destination.. Alfred could see the merchant ship sinking right next to the Pirate vessel, and there's another one approaching it! Back up? Doesn't seem like it… They're waving different flags.

And they weren't the only ones to notice, the sound of cannons firing was enough to turn the heads of the English Pirate's.

"Captain, Spaniards!"

It seemed the Spanish territory Pirates are planning to steal their weight in loot. And steal their victory. Things were getting a little too heated and luck was turning it's back on them, aside from the fact his crew had boarded the battered merchant ship and were now transferring goods.

"What's that bastard doing here?! Men! Speed it up, take what you can! We aren't prepared for a full battle!" But they would be soon, that swine had been sailing his sea for far too long already. One day he'd have to put an end to it.

Of course it raised a second question, what had they been firing at-?

"Aircrafts overhead, Captain!"

Green eyes scanned the skies and sure enough he was right. Three of them were approaching fast. They were just under the cloud canopy now, in clear sight for those below. "It's the blasted Military! Shoot them down! Treat them like flies and swat them into the ocean!"

Two cannons were adjusted, pointing up before firing their load. Missed… "Keep at it! Don't disappoint me or I'll hang you upside down from the mast!" The blood would rush to their head and cause some painful headaches, if left long enough they would die.

These weren't the first aircrafts he'd come into contact with either, seemed someone was out for his blood. Probably some pompous lunatic who'd had enough of Captain Kirkland's stealing. No matter! They wouldn't succeed, Arthur would never allow himself to be captured. The gallows would never take the Captain from his sea.

"Careful, two pirates are aiming to put us down." Alfred said to his crew then he placed the radio back down in its holder. It's time to put them down, end their reign and make the sea safe once again! Merchants are honest people, making a living by sending goods to isolated areas and helping their land grow, but these Pirates, cold-hearted bastards! They steal from them, kill the innocent merchants and make their families lose their loved ones.

 _You will all pay… Justice will bring you all down!_

Alfred disliked battles like this, disliked war and bloodshed but a Hero has to step forward when he's needed.. To answer the calls of those who couldn't fight and save them from death.

"Alfred, don't do anything stupid, eh!" Matthieu said, crack radio catching some static. As expected, he ignored Matthieu's warning and then nose dived his aircraft towards the two pirate ship.

But the two ships would soon become one, Captain Kirkland had made a decision and planned to stick to it.

"We're pulling out, the Military can deal with them… Battling now would be foolish!" It would be like walking into a slaughter house. The ship had already taken damage from the poor Merchants ship in an attempt to break free of their attack.

"One day, Antonio… You'll lie dead at my feet." His eyes narrowed at the other ship as if he were searching for the other Captain, eagerly awaiting the day he'd have his victory. "I want four more cannons on the sky! There's too little bloodshed for my liking."

This thievery was like shopping to the pirates. Without the use of money, of course. While they possessed great riches they'd prefer to spend that on rum and women, meaningless things to please them during their voyages. It was understandable that others accused them of being heartless, maybe they were… No one ever bothered to talk to them upon capture. They were put to death or locked away for the rest of their life. That was that. Not even treated like humans simply because of the profession they'd decided to follow.

From the skies, Francis dropped a bomb over the Spanish ship but missed, water splashed up hard as it exploded under the depths. Right behind him was Kiku, raining bullets to put down the Pirate crew but he withdrew quickly, the pirates were loading up the cannons again, it would be suicide to go closer—

 _ **BOOM!**_

"Alfred!"

That's what you get for being overly confident and reckless in battle. His hatred clouded him to the extent he lost focus and now his precious aircraft was falling at high speed.

"Come on! COME ON!"

No, he won't pull the eject button. This aircraft is everything to him! His father gave this before he— Before he.

"ALFRED EJECT!" Kiku cried out through the crack radio.

The American squeezed his eyes close, gritting his teeth as the wind blew strong. The force caused the cockpit lid to crack and the right wing of his aircraft to burn.

"NO!"

"ALFRED!"

"Fall back! Kiku." Francis ordered as they watched the aircraft crash into the water in horror.

"Fall back….."

 _Its cold… I can't hear anything and it's hard to breathe. Am I drowning? Is this death? Dammit…. All my hard work gone.. because of my recklessness…. Matthieu….. I'm sorry…_


	2. Off One's Rocker

"We've hit, Captain!"

Sure enough, when he looked up the sky held trails of smoke as the damaged aircraft attempted to stay in flight, it was no use, the damage was too great and so it fell, hitting the ocean and causing the waves to rise high.

"The others are leaving, should we pursue?"

The Spaniard ship receive a heavy damage from the aircraft attack and Captain Kirkland's very own and so they decided to flee before the British Pirate put their ship down or worse, stole their treasure. The sea is once again quiet, the merchant vessel crackling as the fire eat its wood and it will soon sink into the belly of the ocean.

"No… Leave them be. And prepare the ropes! I want that lump of twisted metal on deck."

Ropes with barbed hooks, sent into the depths to pierce the already broken aircraft. It took the strength of all the crew to lift it from the waters, it would have been a magnificent craft is only it wasn't so broken. The Captain watch them adjust the yield, the cross section at the top of the mast that held the sail. The rope was draped over it, and soon enough the craft was hovering above the deck, being lowered slowly so no more damaged was caused to the precious vessel.

The crew struggled, understandable since the weight was great. But there were many of them… Strength came in numbers.

"We'll strip the wings first, port side's our priority at the moment. Any slacking off and you'll receive lashes!"

"Captain… There's someone inside." A person? Surely they weren't stupid enough to stay inside a doomed aircraft.

"Don't bother me with such petty things! Throw his body overboard, I have no use for corpses." He watched as they clicked the top open, struggling to move it but soon the water gushed out, dirtying the desk. Green eyes narrowed. That had better be clean by sundown.

"He's alive! Unless the dead have learned to rise." Impossible. Arthur marched his way down towards them, pushing one aside as he stared at the young man still secured in the cockpit. Seems he was half unconscious. His head was bleeding, probably hit during the crash but nonetheless his chest was moving up and down to prove he was in fact breathing- the man coughed out the remaining water inside his lungs and wheezed out to catch more air before he passed out. The shock was too much.

"A lunatic from the skies it seems… Tie him up."

It was reckless of him to remain inside his aircraft, he could have ejected before it crashed but for some reason he decided to remain inside until very end. Admirable but at the same time, stupid.

Arthur smirked to himself, it had been far too long since he'd had a prisoner. The last one had died so soon.

The crew pulled him out (some complaining about Alfred's weight) but they managed to drag him to the middle of the deck and tie him tightly to the mast. Poor guy, he's still unconscious but these bastards are already treating him like an animal! What will happen to him is unknown but, for now, the Aviator savoured his chance of sleep and recovery.

But of course these Pirates wouldn't wait forever, it was a good thing they were busy with repairs or Alfred would have been forced to wake right then and there without the luxury of a 6 hour sleep.

This opened them up to a number of opportunities. They could hold him for ransom, earn a good amount of money for handing him over or even bargain their freedom from the military. Sail without anyone else interfering. A long shot but it was a possibility. Or they could always keep him on board for their own entertainment… He looked young, and quite fit too. He'd be harder to break but a challenge was always welcome on this ship.

* * *

"Wake up!"

One of the crew kicked the man's leg to wake him, the action failed, which then led to them pouring a cold bucket of water over his head, which most certainly did the trick. With a yelp, Alfred snapped his eyes open, squirming as if he was ready to swim but the man soon discovered that he was on the ship instead of the ocean- Though at a time like this he would rather be struggling at the bottom of the sea. The crew laughed, clearly amuse at the reaction they received and a few made teasing remarks, none of which Alfred listened to. Bastards.

"Captain, he's awake!"

Captain? Alfred frowned, everyone went silent but that silence was soon shattered by the sound of boots landing on the wooden deck, getting closer… and closer.. and—

"—Woah, check out the eyebrows!"

Everyone gasped.

"Why you cocky, insolent brat! You're lucky I don't blow your bloody brains out for such a comment!"

His eyebrows were magnificent! And those that said otherwise were thrown into the sea to drown. The man tied up was in no position to crack jokes. He should be begging for his life or freedom!

Alfred winced at such harsh words. First day meeting this famous Pirate and he discovers the grouchy guy hates talking about his eyebrows. He'd remember that, maybe he could use it to his advantage and find a way to escape. Though… Escaping by insulting his eyebrows alone would truly be a miracle and a story worth telling at the dinner table.

"Welcome to my ship… The one you tried to take down with your little flying piece of junk!"

Which now sat sadly on deck, looking battered and unloved while some crewmen attempted to strip the layers of metal off for both repairs and sales. Strip a carcass of it's meat, that's how the Captain saw it.

But a pair of blue eyes went wide in horror, his aircraft! There she was, sitting at the far end of the giant ship.. She was broken beyond compare, missing a wing and the windshield was shattered and those louts, what were they doing to her?!

"DON'T TOUCH HER!"

This is the first time he'd show anger after unwillingly boarding the enemy ship, that aircraft meant a lot to him. That much was clear when he refused to leave her when she was falling. And he was even willing to die with her.

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH HER!"

Alfred twisted his arm, trying to break free from the bounds but such an action caused his wrists to turn red from friction. The pirates who were stripping the aircraft's metal ignored him and even laughed at the angry cry of the Military Captain.

"You are a hostage. And I'll use you and your aircraft in whichever way I see fit, even if it's keelhauling your sorry arse for my own amusement!" A horrible method of punishment, in most cases they'd drown or bleed to death before resurfacing. As sadistic as it was, his anger was horribly amusing; Arthur was enjoying the spark it left. The darkening of those blue eyes as they finally made an accurate judgement, had the fear finally settled in? "A prisoner on my ship is a prisoner for life… The military have given me enough trouble over the years. Ridding them of… A Captain?" He stared at the patch, his rank on display and Arthur's lips pulled into a smirk.

"They must have low standards. How else would someone as stupid as you earn such a high rank?" The crew laughed, Arthur continuing to poke fun and humiliate the foolish man who hadn't ejected.

Alfred didn't care if the Leader commented on his badge, he didn't care that he was making fun of his rank and didn't care that he was looking down at the skills he'd worked hard to build. All he wanted was to run to where his aircraft was and save her… Save her…

"I swear…. If you break her more than she is now, I will kill you all!"

"Tch… What are you going to do? Kick water at me?," There was a chorus of laughs from the men surrounding them, "Gilbert! Get your bloody arse over here and throw this mosquito in the brig! And remember to lock the door this time."

Said man appeared after being summoned. Apparently he'd just woken up from a nap, lazy man, sleeping on the job while others were hard at work.

"Ja, ja. I will watch over him this time.. Keh, its not like he will be able to escape the ship! It would be suicide to jump off the deck and swim, there were sharks and even giant octopus exploring the area, he would be dead before he found an island nearby or whatever." The Captain gives him a warning glare. " _Scheiße_ , alright! alright, let's go Aviator, time to throw you in the— Whoa, whoa! Chill!"

Alfred wouldn't go down without a fight. He kicked and squirmed until five or more crewmen pinned him down to the wooden floor, he was still fighting despite his weakened body. The boy was strong… He'd give him that. Arthur watched with curious eyes as he struggled under those pinning him. He didn't give up, not once and even though he bled, the only thing he seemed to care about was that aircraft.

A Captain's attachment… It was something he understood but he wasn't going to pity him. The first mate was quick. He'd knocked the American unconscious by hitting his head with one of the smaller barrels that carried Ale. An ungraceful and quick defeat but they had the upper hand here.

Arthur stared at his limp form in distaste. "That's not going to help with his head wound. I'll be surprised if he's not brain dead after a hit like that… Carry on! And you lot, quit standing around! We've got work to do!"

* * *

By the time Alfred woke up, he was in a small jail cell and it was dripping wet, air musky and smelt like death. Morning, evening, he was unsure.. It was dark there in the deepest part of the deck and his only source of light came from the lamp nearby. It was cold…Fever? Damn.. He hoped not..

"..Hungry…."

"Finally awake…? You slept all night you lazy git. If my crew are lazy they suffer a whipping, maybe I should treat you the same way. Your back would look lovely with torn red stripes. All fear me eventually, even you… In time."

If Arthur had learned one thing about the prisoner it was that he slept for long hours. He'd checked twice and both times he'd still been fast asleep, sprawled on the damp floor. But the third time he'd approached the cell it was pleasing to find a conscious man. And now he could address him and strike fear into his heart.

"You're a mess… I'll have someone send in a few rags so you can clean the blood off. There's no point in killing you yet so you'll receive a meal." A disgusting one. "Then, I have an offer. A ticket to joining my crew… Your strength could work to my advantage."

"I refuse."

He said that without hesitation, clear blue eyes glaring at the British pirate with complete hate.

"I'd rather receive a hundred lashes than join your fucking crew- I'd rather embrace death than serve you."

This one was difficult, refusing straight away which caused a frown to form on the Captain's face. "A hundred lashes can easily be arranged. It'll rip the skin off your bones." And he'd bleed to death or die from infection. Cleaning a whip out at sea was an impossible task. It was caked in grime and dried blood.

Alfred was a stubborn man for a good reason. The Military existed to bring justice to those who couldn't fight, to save the innocent people and put down those who dared to stand against the rules. Rules exist to be followed, to keep people in line and maintain the balance.

"…If you leave my aircraft alone then I will reconsider… I will do whatever you ask and even be your personal cabin boy if that's what it takes but I want you to leave my aircraft be. Don't touch her, no metal shall be remove and your crew can't lay a finger on her."

"Ah.. She's that precious to ye?" He looks well amused. Any man would laugh at such request but with Alfred's serious look they would be convinced that he had indeed gone mad. It was a good deal actually, Arthur would lose nothing and he would gain something— he had Alfred to do whatever he wanted, even kill— If given the order he'd probably be hesitant but would do it nonetheless. He's no longer a Captain now, one of Arthur's crew stole his badge but luckily didn't take his bomber jacket. Alfred couldn't go back to home base either, everyone probably thought he was dead after the crash.

"Captain." One of the crew opened the hatch to be heard. "Should we continue stripping the aircraft?" Alfred glared at the man then back to Arthur, daring him speak out his thoughts and to make his final decision. If he refused to accept their small negotiation then Alfred would choose death like any noble Hero would do..

"Decide now, Pirate…"

"An odd request, it was already broken when we hauled it up. That thing won't ever fly. Not without extreme repairs." And some new parts; what was the point? It would just be a pile of wreckage on the ship. A waste of space.

But was it a reasonable exchange? Leave the aircraft and receive this man's obedience in return? Of course it was. Metal only made the ship look tacky when it was used for repairs, and selling it would mean having to move it again.

"Leave it be for now, focus on cleaning the grime off the deck. It's disgusting…" With a _'yes, sir'_ they left, the two left in the brig with the lamp lighting their features. "There. That stupid eyesore will now sit on deck untouched. As you wanted, now… I get what I want. A cocky slave with a head wound."

How would he follow orders from inside a cell? There wasn't much he could do in there.

"You will address me as Captain Kirkland, or just Captain." He jammed the key into the rusted keyhole, unlocking it before it swung open. "Screw up and you'll be punished, screw up repeatedly and you'll be killed. Jump overboard and you'll die. Kill any member of my crew and you'll die. Refuse to eat what's given to you and you'll die. Understand? This isn't your base or wherever your from. There is no safety here… Now, get up there and help clean the deck. I'll call when I have another use for you, brat."

"There's no need to lecture me, you pirates want nothing but treasure and slaves to order around. Whenever someone stands against you or refuses to obey, all you do is punish them or kill…"

That's how they work. Pirates only existed to give pain to those who fall into their hands and make their life miserable but at least they treasure their words or vow like how this man agreed to leave Alfred's precious aircraft alone. He's right about one think though; the aircraft won't be able to fly in her state but its better this way than seeing nothing left of her— that aircraft means everything to him, more than anyone would know. Only Matthieu knows the reason why, the American even refused to replace her with a new model! Any Captain will accept such offer but not this guy— no one can take her place.

"I won't even be surprised if you stab me right in my back just because you're bored."

"If I stab you in the back it'll be for speaking out of line! Hush! You are to speak when spoken to." And work when ordered. He was going to be a lot of work for the green eyed man, that much he was certain of.

Alfred slipped off the wooden chair, legs a bit wobbly from losing blood and his head— he just noticed, was pounding like hell. It's like being hammered inside and out but he held his ground nonetheless, no way in hell he's going to show his weaker side to these bastards, he will show them that even if he turns into a Pirate slave, he's still a faithful man to his country.. A proud militia to the very end, the best Captain this world ever possesses.

"Hurry up!"

One of the crew dragged Alfred all the way back to the deck then shoved him to the wooden floor. They all laughed at him as if he's a clown, giving entertainment even though he had done nothing— they're probably crazy.

"Clean up! Clean everything until you're worn out! No breaks, no food until dinner." He was given a mop and a bucket of water to use… This will be a long day for him, seeing that this ship is ridiculously huge! It was more or less fifteen times bigger than his aircraft— that's right.. His plane… Alfred picked up the mop and bucket before making a beeline to his contraption and like what the Captain said she's in no condition to fly anymore or even be fixed using the scraps they have here. Left wing missing, a hole right on its tail, a missing tire, propeller broken and the windshield of his cockpit shattered. It was a painful sight and Alfred stared at her for a good long minute as if he was mourning over a good partner.

"..You fought well…" He placed the mop and bucket down to touch his aircraft's cold metal. "I'm sorry that I failed you…. But I promise, I will do anything to fix you up, okay? So just sit there… It may take a while, buddy.. But you have my word.." A Captain's heart only belongs to his aircraft or ship.

"Hurry up and work!" Said one of the crew and with that, Alfred picked up his cleaning tools to start his very first day here in the Pirate ship.

It was obvious to Arthur the young man was holding a grudge. Or maybe his hate for pirates was drilled into him by the higher ups. He could never hope to understand pirates and the way they lived, he was a land dweller and probably had everything he wanted. Food to eat, money and a safe place to go. men like this were cast out from that safety, they were left to fend for themselves wince the world refused to help them. Pirates were broken men, all holding strong together to conquer what they could and find a place to call home. It was a family, a big one. But that didn't mean it was free of pain and death.

And now Alfred was the newbie, the one everyone would pick on till time had passed. He'd fit in one day, just another man enslaved to work till he died.

"There will be time to treat your wounds later. I can't have you bleeding everywhere all the time, it'll attract rats and they'll chew on you while you sleep." It had happened before, they were vile little pests that Arthur despised. When seen they were killed. Shot or stabbed it didn't matter, just as long as they weren't biting on anything anymore. His poor ship was not a chew toy!

Arthur took his position on the top deck, watching over the work that was being done. He could see the whole ship from here, see any mistake and keep an eye on the new boy… He should get a name later. Or perhaps it was better to keep insulting him. He'd learn his place that way, a Captain reduced to this. He was with that aircraft… Lips moving as though he were talking to it.

The Capitan made no move to stop it, he was more curious than enraged. But one of the crew barked an order, and he was forced to start his work which would take long hours. He'd see how well this man worked, see how much he could endure and maybe one day he'd grow used to this life, obey without question and forget about the skies. They could dump the craft somewhere in the middle of the ocean. To sink to rock bottom and rust and die, buried to never be seen again.

"Keep an eye on him Gilbert."

"What?! Why do I have to babysit him? Come on, Captain!"

Sadly the Captain ignored him, not listening to a word of his complaints as he made a beeline to his quarters. He needed to lie down, he was tired after two days of little rest. There was always work to be done, and always the fear that someone could be following.

Gilbert was the Captain's first mate, he was the very first man he trusted despite the albino's strange ways, no one understands this person really but nonetheless he's useful when it comes to combat. He had superb skills in swordsmanship and no one had ever defeated him.

Alfred did his part, he cleaned, mopped and even scrubbed the floor to remove all the nasty growing moss. It normally grows in the wooden ship such as this one and when left ignored, it can cause damage and even accidents!

The cleaning was easy, the Aviator used to clean the base during his cadet days and it was part of their training too— more like, part of their torture.

Not that the higher ups enjoyed pushing them to their limit, it's just that some people love abusing their power to make themselves feel better and Alfred, he never complained. He believed that every order given by his higher meant something and that it would serve him well in the future, such a innocent man he was until the present— and this is one of the reasons why Francis disapproved of letting Alfred take the lead. He was a Military dog, following their command without question— blinded by the rules and 'honour' which they displayed, false honour to be exact… Little did he know that Pirates experience the heaviest punishment in life, such as losing their family or being left abandoned, disowned, no one to come home to… Thus, they turned into a Pirate to have a home and to feel belonged.

Killing is still a crime though but the Military killed people too and they used 'justice' as an excuse. Is killing innocent people that are somewhat connected to outlaws reasonable? No… Alfred had yet to see that part, he's still young and inexperienced when it comes to the real world. He was too protected in the developed society and never once experienced poverty.

"You done? Clean the toilet this time."

He could feel his back aching and the blood on his shirt had since dried and now the material stunk of dead fish, the water they'd poured on him had come straight from the sea - he needed a bath and clean water to drink, bandages and disinfectant for his wound as well but it seemed like he wouldn't be getting any of that. He didn't mind but what he feared the most was catching an infection and he can't afford having that… Getting sick would make his body weak, that meant he wouldn't be able to work and not working would cause his dear life to be put on the line. The Captain said it himself earlier… And that grouchy man sounds too serious to be jesting.

After cleaning, Alfred didn't take a break. He went straight to aircraft to start fixing it and thankfully the engine is still in one piece. There are no lose wires, heavy damage— it will still work so the only problem with his aircraft is her body. "I just need some tools to use and some metal to patch you up… Wiring too.." Hammer, nails— great.. Maybe fixing her really is impossible—no! He must stay positive and see to it that this babe will fly in no time.

Go back to the sky where she belongs…


	3. We're Different

The Captain's cabin was the one place on board where the crew required permission to enter, it was his safe haven. Free from the cold air and the grime the deck held. It was clean, holding a large bed in the centre with red and gold coloured covers. And intricate designs on the pillows, expensive material from the looks of it. He removed his hat, resting it on the desk that sat it the corner before pulling off the huge coat he wore. He always seemed smaller without it, a fact Arthur despised which is why he was rarely seen in just his shirt. unless the harsh sun was too hot. Days like that he'd shut himself away, with skin as pale as his it would be easy to catch a sunburn. He'd be a laughing stock if such a thing happened.

Boots were next, slipping them off and throwing them in the corner. God he ached. And now he had to worry about the aviator on board, keep him in check and protect the crew he already had. He could be dangerous, but he seemed too occupied with his aircraft for the time being. The Military… Said to be heroes but that was nothing but a bunch of lies. Pirates had been killed, shot, hung. And for what purpose? It stopped nothing, there would always be someone out there ready to avenge their friend or brother. But… With an increase of air units the number of pirates was declining. One day they'd become extinct, spoken of only in history books and picture.

Arthur sighed, lying down on the huge bed to take a much needed nap. Even a ruthless pirate needed to snooze every now and again to regain lost strength. They were only human. His sleep… It was only a few hours. And when he left the cabin he called to the crew, dismissing them from their duties to go and eat their fill. Arthur walked across the deck, pleased to see most of the dirt gone. But the boy… He was with his craft.

Using whatever tools Alfred could find, he remove some parts one by one and sprawled it over a used towel then dries it off thoroughly. After drying, he attach it to his contraption then did the same step to the remaining parts. This will take long but worth it, hard work always pays off! That's what Matthieu usually say.. He missed him and now Alfred wonder if his little brother behaved well- they had a conversation before, planning for any worst case scenario, including this and they have agreed that once the plane crash.. The survivor would never look for the other… If the other's alive? Then he should head back to base and surprise everyone. It's better that way… Save you a lot of trouble in searching and most of all- save you from heartache in finding the corpse of your love one.

"It's no use. You can't fix it here, there's no way." The cruel truth and Arthur wasn't afraid to say it.

"Pirates like you wouldn't understand anyway. Betcha throw everything you find useless and then replace it with something grand that you stole from the others." He didn't bother turning around to look at the said Pirate. "She will fly and touch the sky once again."

"As if I'd let ye." He wrinkled his nose, "You smell worse than a dead corpse, I refuse to put up with it. Come! You'll take a bath while everybody eats, then when you're done you'll get your share. Not that I should give you food… You military scum don't deserve it but you will be useless if you can't work. If you refuse to eat then I'll shove the bloody food down your throat. This very ship will be your grave."

Alfred turns to look at the Pirate, his glare is met with Arthur's very own. "Or yours."

A smile creep up on Arthur's lips after hearing those words, amused that his prisoner refuse to hold his tongue. "The best part about this is no one will come searching for you. They probably think you drowned. How does it feel? To have no one come for you… No one knows you exist still."

"It's funny that you're curious about how I feel since you care less if I live or not but I'll have you know... I've never felt so much alive." Determined to live, hopeful that he will be able to escape this madness.

Finally, Arthur left the seething aviator and Alfred took this chance to clean himself up. He scrub his skin, wash his hair to get rid of the sea salt and grime. Before he put on the clean clothes given, he tend to his wounds. He clean it with a disinfectant then wrap a bandage around it to protect from any diseases. People who live on the sea don't die in hunger. They die because of illness and infection.

 _Food…_ The crew went back to the deck to relax, they're done cleaning and doing their job therefore they're free to do whatever they find entertaining. This leaves Alfred eating alone in the dining area and not only that it's eerie, the food served to him are nothing but left overs. A half loaf of bread, a thin layer of soup and a couple of cheese.. As for his drink, a glass of milk but it taste sour, clearly spoiled. He settled in having a glass of water instead.

"So ye that yankee they talk 'bout." Alfred lift his head and found the chef standing right behind the counter. He's a huge man, three times bigger than Alfred. "Ye ar lucky that the Capt'n fancy ye.. So savor the time of bein' alive, that man tend to change his mind."

 _Tch… tell me about.. he's grouchier than my old man and I wouldn't be surprised that he's thinking of throwing me off deck by now._ Alfred pick up the loaf to nibble on but it was hard like a rock.

"Get used to it, food here are not the best but at least it fills yer belly." Is he really a cook? Alfred can do better! Thanks to his rigorous training of living alone, Alfred learned how to cook and even do laundry— the latter will be handy if the Capt'n order him to clean his clothes, or better, burn it. He sigh, more work, he's depressing himself even farther.

"How 'bout I cook this evening?"

"Ye? A stranger? Ha! I won't let anyone touch my cooking tools. Stay away from the kitchen boy if you want to live."

"It's not like I'm gonna poison everyone."

"Doubt ye can. The crew's stomach is mightier than any steel."

 _With this kind of food everyday? I bet._

* * *

Arthur finished up his food but stayed put, sailing the huge ship while the crew relaxed on the deck below. The sun was setting… The sky changing from blue to orange and red, casting long shadows. The sight was beautiful but it was one Arthur had become familiar with. It was better than a storm at least, the waters turned into a death-trap when bad weather hit, their very lives were at risk. Gilbert approached the Captain but was shooed away, he didn't feel like dealing with the albino's silliness today. He even forced the poor man to take his plate down to thee kitchens to be cleaned. Cleanliness was important on board, dirt brought rats and rats brought disease. There were no doctors on board and sometimes the travel to land would take to long. Many had died. But there were always replacements. Men without homes who'd do anything for a bite to eat and a place to sleep.

Sleep… There was a problem. Where would the new lad go? All beds were occupied at the moment, some even had to share as it was. It wouldn't be too hard to set up a hammock for him, better than being stuck on the floor. It would cause his muscle to ache and work would be much slower the next day. Arthur couldn't have that! Laziness wouldn't be tolerated on board. Everyone had their duties, everyone had to pull their weight.

Ah.. There he was. Just crawled out from the cafeteria. Must be a slow eater, he was in there for quite sometime. Arthur wondered how he liked the food… he was probably used to good food. A nice arrangement of different meats and vegetables. Fresh bread and treats… Pirates didn't have that luxury. They needed things that lasted.

"Oi! Get your arse up here!" Best bring the lad up here since the crew were shunning him. The Captain didn't enjoy watching people sit there and do nothing. but this wasn't an act of pity, oh no… Arthur had plans for him. "First off what's your name? I'm fed up with yelling 'Oi'" And insults made other members of the crew turn their heads also. Alfred wasn't the only one he treated in such a way.

"You can call me 'Oi' forever, I don't mind." He mock. The thought is quite funny actually and it'll be precious! His crew will be confused! They'll thought that they're the one being yelled at. "Ya got my name if one for your itchy-finger of a crew keep his hands away from my badge.." The Aviator climb the steps to reach the higher deck, the injury on his leg throb whenever he put his weight there but nothing he can't handle. "The name is Captain Alfred Fitzgerald Jones of thirty-fifth unit of the Aquila Division.." No longer a Captain actually since this child of a Pirate captured him. Alfred's crew is probably holding a funeral for him by now.

"Jones… Not bad. The middle name's laughable though.. I have another offer… I'll get something in return of course."

Another offer? Alfred frown at this and unsure but he's quite curious about it though. "Very well.. Let me hear it."

"I'll give you tools to fix your aircraft… I've got some parts on board too. BUT… In return…. I want your radio. In working order so I can pick up chatter from the enemy." It could be used as an early warning if they were heading their way. A way to escape or prepare to attack. "And if you manage to make that contraption fly again you are forbidden to leave this ship. If you take off we'll shoot you down."

Tools and parts for his precious aircraft and its all for one item, the radio. He frown even more- The radio is a built-in device of his aircraft but can be removed. It capture any frequency and even barge in without being detected- a very dangerous device if ever fall in the enemy's hand.. Alfred is no longer part of the military, those who are Captured by the pirates are mostly branded as 'traitor', who knows, they probably have brainwashed or threaten to spy. But Alfred won't let himself persuade by temptation.. He's still a Captain and a Hero at that.. Heroes would never play in the Villain's hand, right?

"Sorry but I have to decline your offer." He said confidently. "I rather work in hard labor to earn the tools and materials for her, or better yet, kill me because no matter what you do.. I won't give up any information. Giving you the radio is like killing my friends back home.."

Eyes narrowed as the man before him had the nerve to decline the offer, no one said no to the Captain of the sea. At the end of the day he had the power to throw them all of the edge and watch them drown, the only reason he hadn't done it yet was because he didn't want to. It was all up to him, and orders must be followed.

"Friends? You don't HAVE friends anymore you lousy no good sky rat! You're as good as dead to them! I don't know what information you receive on us back at your silly little base but I can assure you we don't just go looking for planes to take down! That's like people purposely searching for flies to swat! A waste of time and a waste of energy. There are far more important things to worry about, you're not the most dangerous thing out there." Stupid Military. They think they can control whatever they want and protect the people. They were weak, and Arthur sometimes wished they'd experience a REAL attack so they can see just how useless they all are.

Without a doubt, Alfred is considered dead back in the base and his friends and family are probably in the process of forgetting him, it will be more convenient that way to get rid of the pain and to save time from mourning over a useless Captain like him. It was his fault why he got captured; he just got his promotion and then boom! Getting all too cocky which end up pretty bad. 'Sky is yours' crashed, got captured by these pirate and instead of killing him, they let him live to be a slave of this ship. It's worst than death.

"We're just doing our job and that is protecting people from bastards like you. You don't know how many innocent people go through hell because of your selfishness, families orphaned; children starved and die because of despair. If you think that this is what you call 'surviving' then I call it 'murder'. You're taking things away from people and that is unacceptable!"

"And what about us? The ones who have no protection and re left to sail without knowing when we'll die! We go through hell as well! We're orphans, we starve and we DIE! Most don't even live past thirty!" No one ever understood the struggles they went through, no one wanted to understand. They just wanted to put them down like rats because they believed they were superior. "We do what we can to survive… Even if it means killing the innocent." At first such acts had saddened him, but now he'd become used to spilling the blood of those who didn't deserve it. Cold? No… He'd just adapted.

"That's the lamest excuse I ever heard. You kill people in order to survive? What about them?! They work hard, traveled across the dangerous ocean to deliver the goods so that those people can bring money to their family but because of you and your wretched crew, their lives turned into hell! You said that you're all orphaned then guess what? Because of your selfishness more children turned into an orphan, you killed their father who works so hard for them— you just made their lives miserable and then will soon grow up and turned into a Pirate and go through hell again, playing with fire, killing people and whatnot, just like you. You're making this cycle repeat over and over… It sickens me." There are people out there who are disabled, no limbs but still work for their family and have an honest life so how come these people choose to become pirates? They have hands, they feet, they have eyes, ears and can speak— they'll survive without the need of killing those innocent people.. Alfred will never understand them; their way of thinking is too clouded to be read.

"You don't have a choice boy, the offer was there to be accepted and no matter how many times you say no I will always get what I want because that's the sort of power I have."

 _Don't have a choice?_ "Then why bother giving me that offer then? You know what; I rather die than give you what you want… I'm done serving you. KILL ME NOW. I don't fucking care anymore!" The loud fuss wasn't left unnoticed. Alfred throws himself to the Captain and pinned him down to the wooden floor and right then a fist went flying across the Captain's face.

To have Alfred tackle him to the ground came as a shock. No one ever dared to try and overpower the Captain! Too shocked to react Arthur was victim to one strong punch and he grunted as the fist made contact. There was no need to fight back, for his loyal crew had taken care of him and dragged him off. They were merciless with him They drag the boy off the Captain, beat him up until he's nearly out of it before a dagger sink right in Alfred's left arm. He cried out in pain and blood pooled right underneath him. Even twist the said dagger for an extra pain.

"Enough!" Arthur brushed himself off, standing once again as he rubbed the sore area. "I've been kind enough to let you live AND keep that aircraft and this is your way of repaying me?" He frowned, the blood would stain his spotless deck. Tch. "You don't even deserve death… Death is an escape!" The crew stood by, waiting for orders or to be dismissed. "Bind his wrists. Hold him on the main deck. Assault on the Captain earns him 5 lashes. If he bleeds to death then huck him off the edge."

Alfred was just turning out to be a tonne of trouble and not much help. He was the very thing Arthur despised and the more he spoke the more the Captain was starting to hate his presence.

"You will NEVER understand pirates! How can you ever hope to understand something you aren't! You don't get it… You're taught by textbooks and men with power! Pirates are becoming extinct because of your carelessness! They're the children you seek to protect! They've grown into men, does that make them lose their worth?!" It was useless arguing with him like this. Their opinions and thoughts were too different and one would never understand the other. Seeing him in pain was the only way Arthur felt in power, watching the blood drip from his wound just proved he was only human and couldn't change the world on his own. _Tch… One man… Who believed his words would change things._ He was insignificant. Like an ant. Truly pathetic.

Punishment was the only way to make him learn, words never seemed to get through to him. And threats weren't working very well at all. He had a strong punch… Very strong. It was frightening but Arthur wouldn't let his worries be known by anyone else. How could one can be so much work? Maybe it would be better to just let him do what he wanted, if he wanted to kill himself then he could kill himself! Breaking a man had never been such a challenge before. But Arthur couldn't rid himself of him… He couldn't just kill him and get rid of all the problems. Why not? Because Arthur was fed up. Fed up with doing the same things he always did. Killing and disposing for no reason, he was foolish to think he'd get something out of keeping a man alive.

Five lashes. That will be Alfred's punishment for assaulting the Captain but he never regrets it; not one bit. In his note, Arthur is nothing but a coward, a foolish Pirate who crave for nothing but power but this Aviator won't let that happen, he rather die than give them the radio. However, if they did manage to take hold of the it, the Aviator will refuse teaching them. The knife on his shoulder was pulled out by one of the crew, he cry out in pain and more blood spill out. He might die because of blood lost but that's better than living in this world, right? Especially when you're in the Pirate's hands. Just like what Arthur ordered his men, his wrists are now bind with strong ropes after they remove his leather jacket. They tied him up in the center of the deck. One of the men loop the rope on the sail's support then pulled it hard to have Alfred's arms raised over his head and his feet off the wooden floor. He's now dangling, vulnerable and hanging like this cause the injury of his arm to hurt even more. Displayed like a butchered poultry.

They are monsters…

"Captain, do you want to lash him yourself or do you want us to do it?" To Alfred, it doesn't matter who— he just want this to end or perhaps finish his life here. What's the use of living but you have to serve these people anyway? He's a man of freedom, not a slave to be pushed around… _I'm sorry.._ Alfred glances at his aircraft, sitting in the middle of the deck not far from him. _I'm sorry that I failed you, Ma… But I did my very best_. He closes his eyes, he couldn't see clearly through his bloodstained glasses anyway and it's best to brace himself. It will hurt like hell but he promised to himself quietly that he will never scream or show pain, for the reason that letting them see it will give these bastards some entertainment.

"I'll lash him. Captain to Captain… It's only fair." Despite being short and scrawny, Arthur held more strength than most thought. "Go about your duties, I'll take care of him from this point onward, it won't be hard when he's a quivering mess." So it will be the Captain who's going to lash him, understandable since he's the one who got hit back there and his cheek is obviously swollen from Alfred's strong punch.

"I want you to count each one. Out loud…" Arthur pulled his arm back, the whip at the ready before bringing it forward with great force. The crack of leather on skin was sickening, but the first hit never broke the skin. The contact made Alfred's back to burn but before his throbbing nerves recover from the pain, it was followed by another one and Alfred gritted his teeth this time.

Arthur repeated the action, the shirt he was wearing couldn't take such force and the material began to rip. Soon it would be a useless pile of shredded material.

The third one was hell, it tore his shirt and now his back is vulnerable to the man behind him and when the fourth one comes, his skin tore and blood trickle out from it. This was never fun to Arthur. While he seemed to always hand out painful punishments it didn't mean he got pleasure from seeing men scream. It was horrible, and he knew that… He'd been victim to this by the previous Captain, a man crueller than he was.

Last hit.

Arthur was bitter and didn't even pause as he brought it down for the last time. Alfred's back was a mess. Raw skin red from abuse as he hung there with the blood flowing from his arm. Alfred hung his head while swallowing down the pain and hate— he didn't scream, not even a small sound like mimicking a dead corpse being beaten by a sadistic man but his effort never matter, he will die from blood lost or perhaps infection anyway. Arthur unsheathed his sword, swinging it to cut the rope that held him up and he was left to crumple to the ground. "We're done… Maybe you'll think before speaking next time." Alfred wasn't the only who'd been injured by the act of punishment. Arthur's hand bled crimson.


	4. Son

By the time Alfred came to, he's back in his jail cell and his head thump in inconceivable pain as if it was being split into two. He curled up in the corner of the chamber, his back stinging and the wound on his arm, poorly dressed, itchy. Infection? He's burning with fever too but why would it matter anyway? No one will ever give a fuck since all the people here in this ship are nothing but monsters.

"Alfred." The door crack open, that voice, he sounds so familiar… Who was it again? His hazy mind won't allow him to remember, heck, even the cell is spinning! "Are ye a'right, boy? It's me." Ah.. The chef, what is he doing here? "Capt'n said that I should give ye some food— kid, ye don't look so good, are ye okay?"

No, he's not. His body aches and his head is about to split but before he could open his mouth to say something, he passed out once again. Body reacts to what's happening, trembling as his immunity fight off the infection but it was too much for his antibody to stop. The chef panicked and rushes out from the chamber.

* * *

Arthur refused to emerge from his own chambers for the rest of the night. He stayed in there and the crew snickered to themselves, commenting on how he always seemed to sulk after whipping someone. Who wouldn't? It was an ugly sight. They were left with Alfred and the crew had thrown him into that small cell again, with a few bandages wrapped round him by some of the kinder members. Tomorrow would be fine… All would be forgotten and the Captain could get on with his life and taking care of his faithful crew. Alfred would be fed and in the morning he'd be given the option to work again. Not many would choose to stay in that dark cell.

But right as Arthur was about to turn in for the night the chef entered his chambers. Uninvited… It made Arthur frown but this man was able to get away with it. He was kind, underneath a harsh exterior.

"We need a doctor 'nd quick, this is serious, Capt'n." It's normal for a person to worry, right? Alfred is just a young lad who is blinded to promises, justice as they call it… And because of voicing out his conviction and belief, and even fought for his right, he's now hanging between life and death. "I know ye are doin' what's best for everyon' but he's young, Capt'n. Don't let his life slip away like this."

His body wasn't used to treatment like this and the place was filthy and damp. He'd die quickly if nothing was done but unfortunately for the aviator this crew held no doctor. Not anymore.

"Please, Capt'n. I beg ye.. Just this once. Just this lad.. Save him!"

"He's a prisoner-"

"I know but he's a boy. Daft 'nd knows nothin'. Please, for me!"

It's new to see the Chef feel strongly about something. Like everybody else, he's a tough Pirate and had his share of drawing blood. But right now he's acting like a father worried about his son, desperate and pleading.

"I don't know what you see in him but very well. I owe you, now we'll be equal. Bring him here, we're miles from port and won't get there till tomorrow."

Laid on the floor by his stomach, the huge rats in this ship cautiously approach the unconscious Aviator during the absence of the chef. They took this chance to feast on the poor man's back, exposed and wounded from the lashes earlier. They nibble on his torn skin, feasting on his blood until the chef arrives and hastily shooed the rats away. He really is a soft man inside despite his huge built and intimidating look, suppose his heart is the same size as him.

"Ye still alive, boy? I'd be movin' ye. Capt'n knows yer ill, ye will be safe now I assure ye." The huge man effortlessly lift Alfred off the floor, carried him in his arms since hanging the boy over his shoulder is not an option, it will only make the blood flow out from his injured arm and he can't risk that. Alfred is already pale from blood lost. Losing more will lead to death. Curious eyes followed the giant man but didn't dare ask him until the chef disappears inside the Captain's quarters. "He's still burnin'." He said worriedly and with complete care, he place Alfred to bed. The Aviator didn't cease his shivering, he even curled up to find more warmth and his skin is hotter than a coal.

"We need warm water… a needle if you can find one along with some thread and some rags for bandages."

"I'll go get it." The chef scampers off to retrieve what the Captain needs, a basin of water, clean towel and a water to drink. It didn't take long for the huge man to gather the things and place it on the side table, just beside the Captain. "It's no use, Capt'n." He said, noting that the Captain was trying to wake the lad up. "He's completely unconscious 'coz of the fever, we should lower it at least before we attempt in wakin' him up." Chef knows what he's doing, he's been serving Arthur for years now and had witness how doctor tend the sick— despite the fact that he's the cook here, he's still useful for many things. They will arrive in the port by tomorrow, many things could happen tonight, they just hope that Alfred will hold on until they reach an island and find a doctor to take care of his injury. Chef is never good in stitching but he knew that their Captain has great skill for that, "I will go back to the kitchen then, Capt'n. I have to cook for the crew but I will be back to check on ye two. I will bring yer food here as well in case ye get hungry."

"Thank you for your help. Don't worry… The git's asleep so I'll take care of him. He may be a good person but he's a good person with a burning hate for pirates. I can't quite forgive him for having such a bad opinion of us…"

Chef grabs the towel and drenches it with water, he squeeze out the excess before placing it over Alfred's forehead. He frowns, the towel quickly caught the warmth and now it's needed to be put back in the basin again to cool.

"He's a good person, Capt'n… Give him a chance." The chef left then shut the door behind him carefully, and then he head back to the kitchen with his shoulders hanging low. He hated Alfred when he first came here but after their little debate earlier and being persuade in letting him cook tonight- Alfred caught his attention but sadly their plan of switching job for today was cancelled because of his condition. This was obviously troubling the Chef quite a bit so Arthur would try his hardest to make sure Alfred recovered. For the sake of his crew… And his own selfish needs.

Now alone, Arthur took the cloth, dipping and wringing it in the cold water before laying it against his head again. _The fever was bad… But maybe it was good to stitch his arm while he was still unconscious._

With another rag he dipped it into the water before dabbing around the wound left by the dagger. It was deep. A clean cut and as he removed the dried blood surrounding it he could make it out better.

"Not even a day and you've gone through hell, kid." he needed something better than water. Infection was inevitable if he didn't find something else… Alcohol! Thankfully he had some close by, what kind of Captain didn't have rum in his room? But now the drink would be used for cleaning, he poured it onto the same rag. The Aviator cry out when the cloth drenched with alcohol was pressed up against his open wound and hell it stings and cause his injury to have that burning sensation. Once lifted, the American open his eyes half way, vision all too fuzzy for him to recognize the other. The doctor could do a better job the following day but right now they needed something temporary. Alfred fall into a light sleep once more, the fever just keep on pinning his body down to weakness.

Arthur lit a candle, holding the needle over the flame in order to sterilise it ready for use. The Captain had learnt to sew at an early age… Repairing his own clothes and the clothes of other crewmen. Flesh was a little different to material but small hands made the work easier. And the stab wound wasn't too wide across so the job was done quickly. Accompanied by fresh blood which was wiped away before being dressed with a new bandage. The towel over his forehead was changed, the fever still burning strong. Alfred is still unconscious, mouth parted slightly to give his lungs more air, he's having a hard time breathing now and clearly he's putting his best in fighting off his fever.

"..Matthieu…" Alfred said, dreaming, groaning in pain. "..I'm sorry.."

"I don't know who Matthieu is… But he'd want you to fight this, I'm sure. So fight and help the worried Chef. The huge man is fond of you, strangely. To me you're nothing but headache."

It took a couple of hours before the fever start to subside, Alfred's breathing became even and his expression peaceful- not even a single sign of pain. He's feeling better now than before but still needs a doctor to make sure that he's completely well and allowed to do his daily labor. The chef knock on the door then enter the room quietly, carrying a tray of food like he promised and it was a warm soup for both of them.

"He needs to eat, Capt'n. To hasten his recovery, allow me to feed him." He drag a chair to sit right next to the bed then carefully set the American to stay inclined. He's still unconscious but will wake up soon. "He reminds me of my son…" Said the chef quietly, he took care of Alfred's bandages first to cover the injury on his back. "He's the same age like him but more bigger, just like his Pa." He chuckle to himself. "But the boy died.. He got into a fight and before he knows it- a dagger struct right into his heart. The killer escape, if I ever find that bastard I will struggle the life out of him." Sighs. "Forgive me, Capt'n. I just… miss him so."

The Captain rarely got a chance to talk to his crew like this. One to one with no distractions, their lives were still a mystery to him, as if they were all strangers still. They'd all lost people and it turns out the chef lost his son. A sad story… Arthur couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that came from losing a child.

"There's no crime in missing someone… No need to apologise." Nothing could fill that gap but he seemed to care a lot about Alfred, taking care of him and Arthur found himself helping too. The one who gave the punishment in the first place. He'd done what he could and now the Pirate could only watch. Staying quiet as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the hand he'd once held that whip in.

After dressing Alfred's injury, he let Alfred to lean his back against the headboard before patting the boy's cheek. Waking him up to feed him. Soon enough the American open his eyes, head still hurting but better than earlier.

"Eat boy, you need the strength you can get." He receive no answer so he continue. "You're in the Capt'n's quarters, you should thank him later but now, eat. We must keep your fever low until we reach the port."

"..Port?"

"Yes, yes, port. Ye in the ship, don't you remember? Hehe, fever probably got ye.. Here, have a sip." He couldn't think straight but his stomach did demand for food. So he took a sip but cringe at the taste. "It's not the food boy, it's your tastebuds. You won't taste any until your fever go down completely."

"..I doubt it's my tastebuds.. I can taste it.. and It taste awful."

"He still makes unnecessary comments even in this state… Brat." Arthur pipe up after hearing what Alfred said, there was no hatred this time, only slight amusement as the corner of his lips turned up into a fleeting smile. The chef burst out in laughter, delighted to know that the boy is recovering. But he must eat nonetheless. Alfred, thankfully, emptied the bowl.

"I be takin' the dishes now and hit the sack for tomorrow." He needs to wake up tomorrow to cook for the crew, he's always busy and not even a single day off.

"Sleep well, my friend… We'll be able to restock the kitchens when we stop too. Some fresh produce will keep the crew happy for awhile." It would also improve the taste since most of the things they had left were stale and old. With the chef gone, it was Arthur's turn to take care of Alfred again, but just he was about to place the damp cloth to his head the boy spoke up.

"..Thanks." Alfred said, hesitantly at that. "..For saving me but I don't understand why.." The wound on his shoulder was neatly stitched, chef told him that it was the Captain's crafty work.

"Your welcome… A pirate's heart beats as strongly as your own I'll have you know. We feel guilt and regret. Many other things… Just consider yourself lucky that I was in a good mood."

"I know that, you and I are humans and nothing can change that. Even the top criminal possess a heart but that doesn't mean I'll let you wander around and kill people." Alfred heave out a sigh and brush a hand across his sweaty hair. "We're both different…" Said quietly. "You don't understand my point 'bout livin' an honest life and savin' people, the same as how confused I am when it comes to your 'killing' and your point 'bout 'surviving'. Look, I don't hate you but I don't like what you're doing- killing is a crime no matter how you look at it and I admit, us military kills too but for a good reason, unlike yours…. Taking from others is just.. Wrong."

"Why is it you can kill with 'good reason' and no one else can? An honest life… It's not as honest as you think." If they didn't take from others Alfred wouldn't have any meals, there'd be no bandages to wrap his wounds either. They needed supplies and stealing was the only way to get them, and the black market of course. No stores would sell their merchandise to pirates, the moment one was spotted they'd be reported and have to flee or the military would capture and hang them. Or torture… Arthur wasn't completely sure what they did to pirates, rumours were never reliable.

"I should go back to the cell so you can rest.. Thanks again." Wobbling for a minute, Alfred keep his balance by pressing a hand against the wooden wall and slowly he make his way to the door.

"You're in no state to be walking around! You look like you're about to topple over, I swear half your blood is staining the floors of my ship. Bloody reckless man, the clean wounds would just become dirty again in that place and the rats would be full of curiosity. They'd chew right through the bandages if given the chance."

But he couldn't have Alfred stay here, that would be a foolish decision and many would question it. Maybe even think the Captain had gone soft! There'd be a mutiny. "Come, we can set you up a hammock in the stores chamber. Less dirt and grime, and rats for that matter." All his hard work will go to waste if he went back to that cell, and Arthur didn't want that to happen. "I'd try to put you in the crew's quarters but… They haven't warmed up to you quite yet. But I'm not surprised… You're insufferable."

The Captain doesn't want him to go back to the cell? But that's where they always keep him, locked up and hidden away from their eyes. It's their way to make sure that their slave won't escape while they're sleeping but now Arthur is asking him to stay in a safer place? Even have a hammock prepared for him? He would accept the offer because honestly he's worn down to his bone that any minute he will collapse and go right to sleep. Sadly accepting the offer almost means that he have to bother this grouchy Captain, letting him help to set the hammock up so he could rest.

"We can do that tomorrow…" Said the Aviator, finding a reason to escape the Captain's prying eyes. "I'm sure that you're exhausted so why not get some rest… I'll… I'll sleep on the deck until tomorrow. My aircraft is probably lonely, ya know? The cockpit is huge enough for me to sleep in, I'll stay there." And as soon the sun shone up, Alfred will set the hammock up himself or perhaps remain on the aircraft to make sure that none of the crews remove a small part of her to sell. "Good night.. and thanks again.."

"I'm always exhausted, it's to be expected as a Captain. Taking care of the crew comes before your own needs… But if you're sure. I'll leave you be." The two still didn't understand each other. But at least now they were able to have a conversation without biting at each other's throats. Or maybe they were both just too tired to start up a fight. It had been a draining day… And working on Alfred's wounds had taken a lot out of him. He nodded instead of responding the the 'good night' and then quietly watch Alfred leave the cabin. He'd have to change the sheets quickly since Alfred had gotten blood on the ones he currently had set out. Such a messy lad, although it wasn't his fault.

Once the room was clean again Arthur could strip down into his night clothes, flopping on the bed as though he was carry bricks. Tired… So tired. But he'd still be the first one up to make sure the ship was on course, they had to make port and get Alfred a check up. The rest of the crew could go drinking and have their fun before collecting supplies, it had been a long time since they'd walked on dry ground. What if Alfred tried to run? No… He wouldn't do something like that when his precious aircraft was stuck on the ship. He cared a great deal for it… Admirable. But it was costing him his freedom.

Thinking about it frustrated the poor man and instead he decided to let his body fall victim to sleep. With the lights extinguished he pulled up the covers, lying his head against the pillow as eyes closed… The patch that covered one lay on the bedside table beside the needle and thread he'd used to stitch the wound. He was… Getting too old for all this drama.

Alfred slowly make way towards the door then he stepped out. It was chilly here on the deck, the moon glowing in the sky along with the thousand stars.. He like it here, if he can't fly up there then might as well enjoy the sky from the ground. Thankfully there's no sign of rain or whatsoever, storms tend to appear without warning here but judging by the calm waves and gentle breeze of evening wind, the weather will be perfect this week- he hoped. Changing is unpredictable.

Alfred climb up on the cockpit carefully, light curse slip out from his lips when he accidentally move his injured arm- at long last he lay on the pilot's seat of his treasured contraption. He close the hatch, warm.. despite the small hole on the windshield. "I'm here girl." He whisper, patting the wheel of his plane. "No one will hurt you." The Aviator soon fall to sleep, his fever decrease completely and wound no longer itch from the infection.

* * *

Morning. Alfred is up early because the beam of the sun directly hit his face, he grumble, turn to his other side but doing so made him whimper- he hit his poor injured arm right on the hard control panel, dammit! He have no choice but to get up and welcome the new day- a new day of torture that is. Stretching, except for his injured arm, Alfred took a deep breath to fill his lungs with fresh air. This is one of the many reasons why he wakes up early, if he's not too lazy to get up that is. The deck is empty, seems like everyone is still sleeping but the Chef soon crawl out from the crew's cabin. "Mornin'." Alfred greet with a bright smile and the Chef greeted in return. He's relieved to see Alfred alive and recovering- surprisingly quick.

"I'll leave ye be, boy. I need to cook breakfast for everyone."

"Can I cook today? I mean, I wasn't able to do that last night since I got sick… Let's just say this is my way of thanks." Chef gaze at the young man for a moment then he agree but on one condition. Alfred should let him watch so he could learn some new dishes. The two went to the kitchen to prepare, this will surely surprise the crew and hopefully enough to have him accepted as one of them. Either they like it or not, Alfred won't be leaving this ship, not until his beloved aircraft is fixed and can fly away from this damnation.

"You know, your captain is a bit difficult to read." Alfred started while stirring the creamy potato soup, it's a simple dish but can warm their belly and give them enough carbohydrates to survive a day and fiber too.

"Aye, Capt'n is always quiet. To be honest, not all of us know who he really is or heard anything about his background. Save for that firstmate, Gilbert, they travel together ever since the group was organized." Gilbert huh, that noisy albino. Maybe he should try talking to him, it's important to learn more about the Captain so that he can understand the guy even the slightest. Alfred dislike the grouchy old man but that doesn't mean he should act like an ass around him. If he want to stay in this ship until 'Sky is yours' is fixed then it's best to get along with that guy— or maybe turn him into a good person! Yeah!

They're done cooking, made a freshly baked bread, potato soup and even made some scrambled egg to go with the loaf. Perfect! This is way better than having a thin soup of egg and hard bread, right?

"Bring this to Captain." A tray of food and a cup of tea. "He eats alone so bring this to his quarter." But why him?! With a pout, the American make his way to the exit. The crew just stepped out from their quarter but thankfully they ignore the American, he's safe for now.

Meanwhile, Arthur's plan to wake up early were ruined since it was obvious his body had been a lot more exhausted than he originally thought. And his muscles ached… It wasn't a very comfortable awakening and to make things worse there was a knock at his door. Breakfast? He was behind on schedule, but his stomach growled in want. Turns out it was the Aviator, looking a lot better than yesterday and so did the food for that matter.

"I brought food, Sire."

"Sire? That's how you address a King. I'm no King." He was a Captain! Far better. More freedom.

"I know that but you're acting like a King now, lazy and spoiled. Or do you prefer being called Princess? I don't mind, it suits you anyway since you're always demanding. Here, eat while it's warm, it won't be as delicious if it gets cold, ya know?" He close the door behind him using his heel and as the man gets closer.

Lazy and spoiled?! If Alfred wasn't already recovering from injuries Arthur would have given him a few more for that comment! He wasn't lazy! The only reason he'd slept so later was because of this man standing right in front of him! Stitching a wound and trying to keep a fever down at the same time could be exhausting, he'd worked hard! And as a Captain he wasn't allowed breaks to do whatever he wanted unlike the crew who could gamble and joke. "My fault? Tch- You're the one who tackled me." He brought it on himself, there would always be consequences for an attack on the Captain. "What's wrong with the food? It looks… nice." A sight he never expected to see. Maybe it was poisoned! A huge plot to rid the ship of a Captain so he could fix his craft and escape!

"I cooked it." He said proudly before placing the tray on the side table. "Its uhh… My way of thanks.. I guess.. for helping me last night.. Even though it's completely your fault but still you helped me, nonetheless.." Man, this is awkward.

"Hmm… Set it down and prove it's not laced with poison. Take a bite." No harm in using him to test it, right? If he poisoned it he'd receive a taste of his own medicine for trying to outsmart Arthur. The great Captain of this ship! Strong! Ruthless! And in his pyjamas! Unflattering… He hadn't got dressed or even left his bed yet. He was exposed but thankfully the rest of the crew wasn't there to see him. Just this useless lump.

With a scornful look, Alfred pick up a spoon to have a sip of the potato soup, took a small bite of the bread and then a piece of scrambled egg. "There, happy? Damn.. That made me hungry too— Fuck, I hope they didn't eat everything in the kitchen! They need to leave some food for me!" Sadly they're not done talking, Alfred just hope that Chef left some breakfast for him or he'll be screwed.

"You'll be seeing the doctor today so make sure you clean yourself up. No one wants a patient covered in dirt." Arthur would have to dig out some different clothes too, some places he could stay dressed in his Captain's attire but the place they were going was full of guards. They dressed as merchants to avoid suspicion. It worked well so far.

"Doctor?" Ah yes. Chef did mention about this, the Captain was worried about him and agreed that they should stop in the nearest port to have Alfred's injury checked. The infection might get worst and his fever will come back and this time, he won't be able to survive it.

"You're dismissed, if the food wasn't so good I probably wouldn't have bothered with the doctor. You can die for all I care." He'd never change.

"Hehehe, if you say so!" Arthur is hiding it but in truth, he's worried about this sexy ass. Maybe Arthur is starting to like him? Damn my good looks, I suppose it can't be helped, ladies and even guys love me. There goes his ego talking inside his head.

Finally dismissed, Alfred scamper back to the kitchen with haste and every crew are still there, chowing down the food.. But they all stop when Alfred step in, they gaze at him for a moment and then smiled.

Arthur was finally left on his own, Alfred would join and eat with the crew. He'd be one of them soon… Sticking to them and joining in on their games and conversations. A family that Arthur would take care of no matter what got in their way. He looked after them but never mingled, he simply kept to himself, eating alone and talking to no one unless it was to give orders. Sine would find it sad but Arthur had grown used to it. All he needed was his ship anyway, still standing strong and repaired to look good as new.

The food was great. The last time he'd eaten something this good was on land at a restaurant. And even though Alfred's cooking was good Arthur wouldn't dare replace the current Chef. The Chef was happy with his job, and he'd been in that position for years. He had more freedom than the others… More trust.

With the food finished Arthur was left to change, the pyjamas neatly folded up as he retrieved new clean clothes. Warm… If he hurried he could make it out before the crew finished eating. Thankfully the deck was empty when he stepped out… He could be alone still. Taking his place at the wheel he closed his eyes, the wind was relaxing and the fresh air was much more pleasant than the disgusting air on land. Port was close. Visible from the ship and it wasn't long till they reached it.

"You'll rest soon, my dear… Then I'll fix you up while the crew go drinking."


End file.
